Southern Hospitality
by ShatteredAngelWings
Summary: [AH/AU] Chloe's a city girl. Derek's a country boy. They have to spend a summer together. Can they manage? Expert: "Go ahead," Royce said with a slimy smile as his cold eyes met Derek's in a challenge. Chloe looked between them, frightened. "Show her some Southern Hospitality." She shivered at his words. And before she knew, Derek had lunged at Royce and knocked him flat.
1. Chapter 1

Southern Hospitality

O1

_The City Girl_

It was as he unrolled the bales of hay that she pulled up. The city girl here for New York's Volunteer week.

Derek wiped the sweat from his brow as she got out of the car, carrying, surprisingly, only one suitcase and a black backpack.

She was dressed ready, wearing worn jeans, working boots and an old t-shirt pinned up to her waist with a hair tie. She was tiny, though; she barely reached his chest. She reminded him a porcelain doll, with her wavy blonde-red hair, streaked with crimson, big blue eyes that looked around nervously, and porcelain skin splashed with freckles.

Her hair was held back in a ponytail and her hat, dingy, read _AR Gurney Arts. _A gleam of red on her chest caught his attention; she wore a red pendant on a gold chain.

Wiping off his sweaty hands, he headed over to her as the car sped away, kicking up gravel. "Bye!" she called to the man driving, who waved back before his arm disappeared into the vehicle.

She had a very nice butt, Derek mused as he walked up behind her. When she turned around, she let out a little yelp and her face went beautifully red. "H-Hello," she squeaked. Even her voice was dainty.

"I-I'm C-Chloe." She promptly stuck out her hand, which he ignored and gestured to the grease on his fingers. "Derek."

She was watching him as he turned and whistled shrilly; the door slammed open and Kit came out, wiping his hands on his dishtowel. "What?" he hollered as he shielded his eyes. His silver-streaked hair hung around his face loosely, reminding Derek that he needed to buy more hair ties for his old man to use while he cooked.

"Oh, hello!"

Kit was walking towards them when another car pulled up. Derek reached out and grabbed Chloe's arm, yanking her out of the way as the bubblegum pink Jeep zoomed by, spitting gravel and dust. The hubcaps vibrated with the sheer volume of the girl's music.

Chloe made a noise of disgust as she wrinkled her nose at the car. _Cute, _Derek thought. "O-Oh, th-thank—"

"Hey, Chloe." A tall, dark-skinned girl with plenty of curves stepped out of the car, wearing gladiator sandals and a tank top that clung to her like a second skin. She was pretty, in a more obvious way than Chloe's quiet one.

Her coppery hair was braided down her back in cornrows and her tawny-colored eyes were surrounded with mascara and black eye shadow. Chloe, he could tell, didn't wear any makeup, maybe a bit of chapstick.

Derek shook his head and hunched his shoulders as Kit introduced himself to the girls. "Ch-Chloe." When the red-streaked wonder said this, the dark-skinned girl snickered softly. He shot her a glower. "I'm Rae," she said sweetly as she stuck her hand out.

Her smile faltered when he didn't shake her hand but she quickly masked it and turned to Chloe, who looked like she'd seen a ghost. Hm. Maybe they knew each other?

"Derek, why don't you show them to their rooms?" Kit suggested, brushing his hair out of his weathered but kind face. "Can't," Derek muttered, "I have to go feed the horses and brush them down."

"I'll show them, Dad," Simon called as he swung out of the house, wiping the grease from Tori's car off his hands and onto his jeans, leaving black streaks. Rae smiled but it was a fake, sugary one.

"Oh, u-um, D-Derek?"

He turned, his eyes meeting Chloe's wide ones. She looked so nervous and scared, he felt kind of bad for her. She fidgeted, like she was antsy. "T-Th-Thank you, for um, you know. S-saving me, I guess." She flashed him a quick, real smile before Simon walked up.

"I owe you one," she continued quietly. He nodded to let her know he heard and headed back to the horses' stalls.

oOo

He was soaked with sweat as he sprayed down the floor, pushing away the dirt and the feces that wouldn't brush away with the scrub-brush.

His white v-neck clung to his chest and his hair stuck to his jaw, his neck, and his forehead. Sweat streamed into his eyes, making him pause every few minutes to wipe it away with his forearm. "D-Derek?"

He turned and found Chloe standing there, holding a pitcher of water and a glass. "I-I th-thought you'd like some." She lifted the glass as if to say _see? _and smiled softly. She looked lovely.

He paused and turned off the hose. "Thanks," he mumbled as he took the pitcher from her and tilted it to his lips. It was cool and it slid down his throat, quenching the thirst. Several long minutes passed. "Your wel-welcome," she said. She craned her neck around him and he saw someone come out of the house, talking loudly.

"Would you l-li-like some help?"

He shook his head as he passed her the empty pitcher and ignored the awed look on her face. "You drank all of that by yourself?" she squeaked. He felt his lips twitch. He offered a shrug as he turned away. "I'm almost done."

"Kit said dinner's…oh." Rae's voice made him tense up. He didn't acknowledge her as she walked in, the click of her shoes echoing around the three of them. "H-Hi, R-R—"

"Why do you talk like that?" A mean tone slid into Rae's voice. He clenched his jaw as he adjusted the nozzle to the hose and suddenly, Rae was screaming, Chloe was laughing, and Derek was soaked to the bone.

The nozzle had popped off (a common occurrence since Derek hated to buy new things besides books and would rather fix than drive the fifteen minute drive into the city to buy a new one) and the force of the water had backlashed a frigid spray.

Chloe was giggling and laughing, her damp t-shirt clinging to her tiny figure, damp hair sticking to her neck as Rae freaked out.

"At least you aren't hot anymore," Chloe said with a smile. Derek's mouth tilted slightly back as Rae shot Chloe a dirty look and stomped away. "My shoes cost two hundred dollars!" she shrieked as the screen door slammed shut behind her.

The sound of Tori and Simon's laughter floated up into the darkening sky as Derek walked Chloe back to the house, feeling a bit…softer towards the genuinely kind girl.

_Maybe it won't be so bad. _


	2. Chapter 2

I finished Kill La Kill. I will make some fanfics, you can bet on it! Ira/Mako, Houka/Nonon, Aikuro/Ryuko

* * *

Southern Hospitality

02

_A Farmer's Resolve_

Dinner was a tense one. Rae kept shooting him heated looks and glowered darkly at Chloe, who looked ready to flee if the opportunity arose. Derek speared a chunk of chicken and took a bit as he surveyed the table.

Tori was secretly texting Liz under the table, as per usual, probably complaining about being away from her three-year girlfriend; Simon was talking quietly to Chloe, trying to draw her attention away from the prissy rich girl glaring at her; Liam and Ramon were absent, which was expected and Royce… was staring at Chloe with a disgusting glint in his eyes, a taunting smirk flashing on his lips every time Derek glanced at him.

He knew what he was doing.

"S-so, um," Chloe said nervously, drumming pretty, pale fingers on the tabletop, drawing Derek's undivided attention from his staredown with Royce, "w-wh-what do you guys d-do here? On the f-farm, I mean."

A lock of curly hair fell into her face and, before he could comprehend or register he'd moved, he brushed it out of her face, his breath still in his lungs. Their eyes locked, in a stalemate, neither moving, blue against green, sky against grass; Chloe's skin turned red in a flush and she broke eye contact.

Royce's lips were curved up, in a mockery of a smile, a sneer in his eyes. He was thinking and when Royce thought, it always ended in disaster.

Derek narrowed his eyes. "We clean the stables, brush down the animals, feed them, change their bedding, tend to the crops," he explained, turning his attention back to the blue-eyed beauty. She was watching him earnestly now, intrigued; Rae was mimicking her but her eyes were glossy and ran over his biceps in an unsettling way.

"We're pretty much self-sufficient," Simon quipped as he sipped his diet soda, tilting back onto two legs of his chair. His plate was empty, clean, the utensils thrown onto of his dingy paper napkin. "If one of us gets hurt, Dad's a doctor, er, well, ex-doctor and, if it's really bad like this one time, Derek and I were kicking 'round this ball and out of nowhere—" Derek shot his brother a dark look and he shut up immediately.

"Anyway, if Dad can't fix it, we go to the town hospital," Simon finished quickly. "What came out of n-nowhere?" Chloe whispered to Derek, eyes round with curiosity. Normally, he'd just glare the person asking down but with her big blue eyes like that, he found he couldn't say no.

"A little rat dog," he said, mouth twisting like he'd bitten a lemon, "It tore through the muscles of my hand and hit the bone. Damn thing was crazy. I'm trying to shake it off, Dad's trying to pry it off and the lady's screaming, 'Don't hurt my little Toby!'" He shook his head in disgust.

He was sipping his water when he heard her snort, hand over her mouth and then she was laughing, head thrown back, rocking onto two legs of her chair with the force of her legs.

He watched her laugh, the sound clean and innocent. Simon looked startled for a split second before he laughed too, loudly. Derek felt his lips threaten to turn upright and hurriedly swallowed several mouthfuls of water.

"I don't believe we met," purred a voice from the end of the table that grated on Derek's nerves. His eyes flickered to the voice's owner and Royce's taunting gaze met his. "I'm Royce," said the slime ball, settling his intense eyes on Chloe, who squirmed uncomfortably. "I-I-I'm Ch-Chloe." He hummed in response and just…stared, for about three minutes before his attention was shifted to Rae, who became flustered and used her low shirt to her advantage.

Derek's lip curled.

"Chloe," he said softly, watching as she seemingly came out of a panic and blinked up at him, "stay away from him. He's nothing but trouble." As if he could hear him, Royce's head snapped up and his dark eyes locked on Derek's green ones. A challenge gleamed in Royce's dark eyes as he pretended to listen to Rae's babbling.

Derek felt a rush race through his veins as the dark-haired boy turned his head away with a smirk. "He's trouble," Derek repeated in Chloe's eyes, his will firming into concrete.

He'd protect her and her innocence, even if it meant incurring the wrath of a mobster's son like Royce.

oOo

The scalding water ran down his scarred back and he winced as the aches and knots of the day's labor melted away. Derek's hair clung to his closed eyelids as he stood under the hot spray, water rivulets running down his body, easing away grime and tension.

His brain was a whirlwind of thoughts; Chloe, Royce, Rae, the horse due with twins any time now, Simon, Kit, they swirled over and over and over in his brain until he slumped to the floor.

He knew he had to keep Royce's disgusting mutts off Chloe but how was he supposed to do it without Rae cramming her tongue down his throat? And the horse was due any time so he'd have to birth the calves by himself, since Simon and Tori refused to do it.

He groaned and fisted his hair, yanking at it. The pain distracted him and reminded him to breathe, to calm down. The back of his head hit the wall softly and he stared up at the ceiling blankly, trying to think.

He closed his eyes and slowly got up; his bones creaked and his muscles groaned in protest, sore and tender. He shut off the water and the steam made him dizzy, light-headed; it was weighing down on his nude body.

He turned away and his bare feet touched the cold tiles. Shivers danced across his skin. He wiped off the mirror to gaze at his reflection as he brushed his teeth and scrubbed at his face. His skin was still damp as he dressed in pajama bottoms and headed to the kitchen for a quick glass of water to help clear away the hot humidity from his shower. He walked passed the living room and paused; Chloe fell asleep, a book laying open in her lap, head down.

Sighing at her, he reached the couch and leaned down, tucking his arms under her legs and across her back. She was light in his arms, so light.

Nobody else was awake; everyone was dead to the world. He carried Chloe back to her room, careful not to jostle her or bend the pages of her book. Using one arm to hold her, he wiggled the doorknob and managed to get it open.

Her room was messy, clothes everywhere. His face flamed when he noticed the bra hanging off the chair and the panties on the floor but he smiled down at her softly and laid her down on the bed, tucking the cool, pink sheets over her sleeping body.

He bookmarked her book and set it on the night stand and brushed her hair out of her face. She looked so young and peaceful while she slept so soundly.

It was he climbed into his own bed, wearing nothing but his boxers now, that his resolve became concrete: _I will protect you from scum. I will protect your innocence…Chloe. _


	3. Chapter 3

Southern Hospitality

03

_Necromancer or schizophrenic?_

The bed creaked as he sat up, rubbing the sweat out of his eyes. _Not now, _he thought desperately as wisps of his dream came back in flashes behind his closed lids. _A man's laugh…screaming…begging the man to stop, begging him to end the unbearable agony. _Clenching his jaw, Derek rose and stretched towards the ceiling; he couldn't let Zachary affect him anymore, after all it _had _been eleven years since the farmer last saw him.

Outside, the sun had yet to rise, the sky dark as midnight. He was certain the animals were awake by now; he could hear them moving, restless and eager to be exercised. Stripping down, he walked to the bathroom and showered.

Hot rain washed down his face and dampened his hair but he shivered and braced himself against the wall. His head flopped forward and he dug his nails into the tile. He could feel Zachary behind him, stroking his sides, murmuring in his ear: _You're a filthy, pathetic boy. _Tremors racked his figure. _And filthy boys need to be punished. _The belt trailed across his back, making him shiver.

And then, _whack! _The blow was right between his shoulder blades and blood ran, hot and sticky, down his spine.

Derek slipped and crashed to his knees, the impact jarring his skull and his teeth sank into his lip, blood bursting in his mouth. The dream evaporated but tears still ran down his cheeks, burning his eyes. The water ran beat against his back as he knelt there, slowly becoming aware that someone was knocking loudly on the bathroom door. Brushing his hair away, he hauled himself to his feet and rinsed off the soap, watching it swirl down the drain.

Drying off quickly, he pulled on jeans a t-shirt and opened the door. Royce grinned at him but it quickly dropped when he saw who it was in the bathroom; a sneer dominated his tanned face in a millisecond. "Hello, Killer Mutt," he purred and Derek's fist tightened on the doorknob.

Ever since he found out who Derek's biological father was, he'd called him _Killer Mutt_ just to piss him off.

"Banks," he said, forcing nonchalance. Blood thumped in his eardrums as the mobster's son shouldered passed him and slammed the bathroom door in his face. Derek stood there for a moment, torn between beating the living shit out of Royce and walking away. Deciding the dark-skinned boy wasn't worth it, he walked away and was halfway down the stairs when heard someone call his name quietly.

Chloe peered over the banister at him, hair pulled back into a messy braid, wearing jeans and an oversized t-shirt. Her freshly washed face brightened when she saw who it was on the steps. "W-wait up," she squeaked and trotted out of his view. He could hear her rattling around in something and she reappeared, holding some old sneakers. "I wanna come with you." He rolled his eyes.

"Sure."

She scampered down the steps passed him, hair bounding down her back as she shoved on her sneakers. "I have to go let out of the animals and clean the stalls," he told her, crossing his arms over his chest as he shivered. "Take a jacket, it's pretty chilly in the early morning hours," he said.

She headed back upstairs and he waited by the front door, ears straining to hear her. A door slammed, a brief snippet of conversation between her and Simon, and then she was back, bouncing down the steps.

He didn't ask what they spoke about.

oOo

By the time the sun rose, they were back inside and just kicking off their muddy shoes when Rae swung into the kitchen, dressed in an oversized t-shirt that _definitely _didn't belong to her. Her hair was slightly nappy and she was makeupless; she looked better without all the artificial stuff on her face.

She yawned loudly and stretched, showing off her tiny boyshorts and a bitemark on her inner thigh. "Oh, hi," she breathed as she fluttered her eyelashes at Derek. He rolled his eyes. "H-Hi," the blonde said. Rae's eyes narrowed to slits as she realized he wasn't alone.

"What have you two been doing?" Simon asked as he shuffled in, bleary-eyed and half-asleep. "I got to wash pi-iglets!" responded Chloe, walking closer to him. Derek stretched casually and ignored Rae's blatant staring; he needed to get away from her as soon as possible.

"Are you sure you weren't playing with your Ouija boards again, Chloe?" Rae examined her nails casually as malice laced her words. Derek paused. "O-Ou-Ouija?" Chloe stammered, horror sliding across her expressive face. And fear.

"Isn't that what your kind does? Play with Ouija boards and 'contact the dead'?" The copper-haired girl smirked as color drained out of Chloe's face. "I-I d-do-on't know—" she stammered and fear made her voice tremble and waver.

Rae turned to Derek and there was something mischievous in her eyes but it wasn't the good-hearted kind; it was the kind that would change his thoughts on the blonde, like Rae _wanted _to get Chloe in trouble or spill a secret.

"Didn't her aunt _tell_ you?" she continued sweetly, a mocking lilt lighting up in her voice as she stared up at him innocently. "R-Rae, do-don't—" Chloe begged, sounding close to crying, but Rae cut her off, a smile on her lips.

"Chloe's full-blown crazy," she said and everything got quiet. "R-Rae!" Chloe shrieked and she looked white as a ghost, her eyes filled with tears.

Rae smiled. "She thought, for the longest time, that she could see ghosts. At the beginning of her freshman year, she had one of her schizo-freak episodes and got shipped to a crazy house for crazy kids like her."

Chloe let out a soft sound like a sob and he watched her bolt, flying up the stairs like a frightened deer. "I don't care."

Rae blinked.

"I don't care, Rodgers. If you think that's going to deter me, than your brain is the size of a walnut." His lip curled and Rae scrambled back, fear flashing across her face. _Good, _whispered Zachary in the back of his mind, _fear is the ultimate weapon. _

It was as he stood in front of Chloe's door that he answered. **_I'm _**nothing **_like you. _**

_You and I are not so different, son. _


	4. Chapter 4

Southern Hospitality

04

_Monster_

To be completely honest, Derek hadn't the slightest idea what he'd say to Chloe when she opened the door. He'd shoved down his natural instinct to not care and had gone after her but now what? Should he apologize? He felt trapped and panicky; sweat slicking his under arms and the back of his neck, as he knocked softly with the side of his fist.

The door creaked open slowly and a hand curled around the edge of the door. "I-I'm fine," she said in a weak voice, peering up at him with bloodshot eyes. Her nose was red and her cheeks streaked with tear trails.

"I don't care," he blurted out despite himself, leaning against the doorframe, towering above her like a mountain of flesh and bone. He had to crane his neck and angle his head down to meet her sad eyes. "I don't care if you're crazy or eccentric," he said quickly, "it doesn't matter to me. Crazy isn't necessarily bad."

_How would you know? _Zachary snickered softly. Derek glanced behind his shoulder just in case the man was behind him, lurking in the shadows, behind the sunlight.

"E-everyone will know…again…" Chloe sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve. He managed something that may have been a smile because she smiled up at him. "Listen, Chloe, none of us care if you have mental problems or not. We won't treat any differently, as long as you don't threaten any of us."

Easing open the door a bit more, she stepped out, biting her lip. She looked a bit livelier. "How about we go brush down the horses? We have some carrots to feed them," Derek suggested with a shrug.

She nodded and scrabbled into her sneakers as they made their way down the steps. Rae was nowhere in sight and neither was Royce, thank god. Derek wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep himself from punching either of them.

oOo

"This is Sugar," Derek said, watching Chloe tremblingly hold out the carrot to the small foal, which chewed off the tip and sighed against the girl's shaking fingertips.

Excited blue eyes swiveled to the country boy, who was busy brushing down Sugar's mother, Rocky, and her face was lit up, a grin spreading across her face like a child's. "He ate it," she giggled, stroking down the foal's nose and between his eyes. Sugar whined and butted his head when Chloe turned to look at Derek.

He realized he'd been staring for a very long time and quickly looked away, his cheeks burning. She was so innocent, so beautiful, and so carefree, that she took his breath away. Clearing his throat, he pointedly fixed his attention on Rocky, brushing her curly mane. Chloe always took his breath away.

"Isn't that—" she began but a voice cut her off. Striding towards them in a sharp pace was a blonde man in a flannel jacket and Royce. Derek immediately reacted. He tugged Chloe behind him, away from Royce and Liam and led the horses to the stables. "Hold on a minute," said Liam, reaching them in a few quick, jolty strides, casually slapping a hand on the horse's flank. Rocky hissed and threw her head back to whinny, kicking out her hooves dangerously.

Somewhere along the way, something hit Derek hard and he lost his grip on Chloe's arm. "We're gonna have _lots _of fun," Liam sneered as he held Chloe against his chest while she went red-faced. "Chloe," Derek murmured as he stroked Rocky's neck, feeling her relax slowly, "you don't want to be around them, do you?"

His breath froze in his lungs when she didn't answer, only peeled herself out Liam's grip and turned to Derek. Her head swung from side to side, eyes begging him. He reached a hand out and she grabbed it, letting him pull her against his chest; she trembled like a frightened rabbit, her heartbeat frantic against her chest, heavy enough for him to feel it.

Royce, who'd been quiet until now, spoke up, clapping. "The prince on his white horse to save the princess?" he asked, glancing down at the rings on his fingers. Derek tensed. "Ironic, you being the heroic redneck considering your daddy issues," Royce continued conversationally.

A bucket of ice tipped down Derek's back and horror filled his chest. "Let's go, Chloe," he whispered in her ear and took her by the arm, pulling her along with him. Royce kept on going. "Remember when we first met, Derry?" The nickname sent a shard of ice through his chest and he forgot how to use his lungs. Chloe looked panicky.

"You were so traumatized," the mobster's son laughed, a noise like glass shattering, "After being treated like that. Nobody's ever struck me, ever. If they did, well, my boys would take care of it." Liam grinned, showing off tobacco-stained teeth, and the effect made Chloe squeak in fear.

If anything, his wolfy grin got wider and he bared his teeth. "You hated everyone, just like your old man, but his rage was on the inside, wasn't it? Just under the surface." Royce paused and gave Derek a look that could've been pity and sympathy had it not been for the smile on his lips. A feral light slid into his gaze.

"You fought everyone, including your one and only friend, Simon. When the kids came for summer, you flipped your lid and hid in the woods for three days. What did you eat, then?" The icicle in his chest began to melt and he regained his motor skills, using them to all but run to the house. "Did you _kill _animals? Derry, there's one thing—"

"Shut up!"

Derek started, as did the other boys and Chloe, who jumped a foot in the air, as Tori came stalking around the corner of the corner, fury lighting up her beautiful face. Chloe shrank and molded herself into Derek's side, fear written across her face.

"All you do is go on and on and I'm sick of it," Tori yelled, hands on her hips. She looked dark and untouchable, in her sharp, gothic attire and her loud voice carrying across the field.

Derek wished Fate didn't hate him so much.


	5. Chapter 5

Southern Hospitality

05

Where does he begin…where does he end?

Royce backed off and all Derek could hear was the pounding in his ears. "Let's go," he muttered, raking back his hair. Chloe wiped her hands on her jeans, looking ashen but okay.

"What was that—hey!" It was Tori, sprinting towards them, a blur of blue-black hair and tight clothes. "Derek!" She grabbed his arm and he wheeled around, tearing away from his sister's grasp. Fear flashed across her angular face. _Even she's afraid of you, _a voice whispered softly to him.

"What?" he bit out instead sharply, cramming his hands into his pockets and rocking a bit back onto his heels. "What was _that _all about?" his sister demanded, hands on her hips. He managed a shrug before he turned and put a hand on Chloe's back, intending to steer her back to the house.

"Derek! Answer me, you idiot!" Tori reached out and grabbed the back of his shirt, worn thin by continuous wear, and then there was a loud _riiip! _He stumbled, trying to process this as Tori let out a soft gasp and a whispered "I'm so sorry" and he tried to keep the back of his shirt closed.

"What's wrong?" Chloe asked as Derek remembered putting on a tank top to wear under his shirt and let the ruined fabric fall away to his feet. "It's fine," he muttered. He knew she could see glimpses of the horrible scars on his back but not the entire thing.

"That was his favorite shirt," Tori said smoothly, flicking back her hair. Derek's eyebrows rose. _Really, _he thought, _that's the best you could come up with? _

Chloe's confused expression never faltered as the three of them headed back, Tori keeping her distance and Chloe far too close to him for his tastes.

The scars throbbed.

oOo

Simon was wrestling with Nate for the TV remote, the screen flicking between the cooking channel and some anime show. Derek's head ached and his temples thumped with a growing migraine.

He felt twitchy and sweaty, feeling his tank top stick to his skin. The confrontation took a lot out of him, mainly the part about his dad. He felt sick, bile churning in his stomach as he climbed up the stairs and hid out in his room, his hands shaking as he locked the door.

He barely made it to his bed before the panic hit him hard, rocking through him in harsh waves. Bile built up in the back of his throat, sour and acidic. His head pounded, sharp and incessant, like someone was driving a pickaxe into the back of his skull and he bit his lip to keep quiet. When he squeezed his head to keep his brain from exploding all over the place, he half-expected to feel that familiar slickness in his hair, red and metallic, clumping his hair, matting it together.

His trembling fingers parted through his hair, searching, searching for that red slickness that he always thought would be there. There were no slivers of glass or shards in his clumpy hair; all he could feel was silky skin and sweat on his hands. He hardly ever had the breakdowns but what Royce had said earlier, in front of an _outsider_, nonetheless, had started the reaction inside him.

He recognized the weakness in his knees, the trembling of his hands hidden in his pockets, and the sweat that began to pour down his back. He really wanted to seek out Royce and beat the shit out of him but, for right now, he settled down into his musky bed covers and cried silently as wave after wave tore through him, each one harsher than the last.

oOo

Kit knocked on his door. Blearily, Derek lifted his head and stared at the red stein on his pillow, strings of bloody drool following his chin. Had he bitten through his lip again? "Derek?" His adoptive father was easing into the room as he sat up, blinking at the hallway light creeping in. What time was it?

"Another episode?" Kit asked softly, closing the door as Derek caught a glimpse of Simon's worried face, a younger carbon copy of his father's. "Yeah," the dark-haired boy muttered, shoving back lank hair and wincing as the remains of a headache pounded.

"You had a nose bleed."

Derek wiped his hand across his lip, staining it red. "Yeah, I guess." His eyes rolled around, slowly adjusting to the darkness of his room. "What time—" he began hesitantly.

"You were up here since three, according to Tori, after an incident with Royce Banks." Kit's normally open face hardened as Derek swept his legs over the side of his bed, ignoring the way the cold air stung his sensitive skin. He couldn't look at the older man as he rose slowly, his muscles straining, protesting.

"It's noth—" he began.

"Bullshit," whispered Kit, his tone softly deadly. Derek faltered in step and his knee buckled, the bad knee, but he caught himself on the edge of his student desk, propping himself up, using it as leverage. "It's been getting worse and worse," his adoptive father continued sharply, "and I won't stand by while my son is harassed."

_I'm not your son, _Derek wanted to scream at him, instead settling for shoving himself up and his knee unlocked, bending correctly. "He's not harassing me," he said quietly, squaring his shoulders and meeting Kit's almond-shaped eyes with his infamous glower. The older man backed slightly and Derek thought, _I'm _not _your son. I'm a monster's son—a carbon copy of that bastard. _

"I can take care of myself." His chin tilted up as Kit's face twisted in something like determination and…pride? "I have some leftovers if you want to heat them up," Kit muttered before he turned and left, his long hair trailing slightly behind him. Derek closed the door and sank to his knees, the words piling up inside his brain.

_I'm not your son! I'm not your son! I'm. Not. Your. Son. I'm a monster. _

Somehow, the words never left the recesses of his mind and were curled up, waiting for him to screw up. He rose slowly and opened the door.

His stomach rumbled all the way down the stairs.


	6. Chapter 6

Southern Hospitality

06

Outside, Outsider

It didn't surprise Derek to learn that news of his verbal fight with Royce had spread through town like wildfire, most likely by Royce's uncontrollable mouth and every time he had to go to town, he got open, frightened stares, like he was a monster, like he was going to lash out and break someone's back. He told himself it didn't matter.

A thundercloud grew over him as the days turned to weeks, slow and agonizing as Royce threw jabs at him during breakfast, when they bumped in the hallways, when they were so much as in the same facility, like the yard or maybe in the stables and he was going to break every fucking bone in that idiot's body if he spoke the _Killer Mutt _again.

"Derek?" He turned to find Chloe peeking up at him, dressed in ratty jeans and a sweatshirt, hair pulled back into a ponytail. Wisps escaped and stuck to her temples and neck. "What?" he bit out without meaning to and something in her eyes changed, growing hard and defiant.

"I thought you might need some help but since you're going to be an _asshole_ about it, then fine," she hissed and turned away.

_Her dark hair swayed in the invisible breeze as she turned away, ignoring his father. He could see the bruises his father had left on her arms as she hissed, "You asshole."_

"Derek?" Chloe hovered, looking nervous and frightened and so, so concerned, like she hadn't just called him an asshole. She didn't _have _the right to be concerned; nobody did. So he drew himself up to his full height and said, lying as smoothly as though he'd done it his whole life—which, to be honest he had, "I'm fine."

Maybe it was because he hesitated, or because he couldn't look her in the eyes but her mouth pinched and eyes told him that she didn't believe him one bit.

oOo

Every minute that passed was long and cold and bleak and lonely; he was staring up at the clock, watching the hands crawl in a slow fashion that was very torturous. Every breath was long and slow and he could count between each inhale and exhale.

1, 2.

Inhale.

3,4.

Exhale.

1,2.

Inhale.

_Tick. _

"You may go," Kit said, smiling that stupid fucking smile that made Derek feel worse on the inside than on the outside, like he was a monster just like Zachary, like he was _nothing. W_hy did Kit have to try to talk to him about coming clean about Royce's hatred towards him?He slinked away, feeling lower than low; in the back of his brain, there was a loud buzzing that had always been there but now it was shrieking at him, loud and hungry and scary.

They'd always been there, ever since he was small and innocent and shy, even before his mother had died, before he found those bodies, in the back of his head, soft and soothing like the distant hum of energy. Now, they were his worst enemy.

"Derek?" It was Rae, dressed in a tight, glittery top and baggy cargo jeans, barreling around the corner. "What?" he bit out harshly and a look akin to anger flashed across her pretty face, making him immediately question his ability to fend off her little slaps and kicks she undoubtedly would inflict with _really _getting too carried away and injuring her. Little to none.

"I _was_ gonna ask if you want to head to town with Chloe and I," she said, examing her way-too-long-to-be-real nails with a bored, bitchy expression and a pucker of her lips. Her hair was brushed back into an intricate braid and Derek found himself wondering how many different hairstyles a girl could do _just_ for going into town.

"Sure," he grunted and turned away, ignoring the breathless gasp of delight because, well, after all, she only wanted him because she got what she wanted. Only, this time, he wouldn't cave. Never.

oOo

The bite of cold stung his skin as he locked his truck and headed for the strip mall. On one side, Chloe was hurrying along, hunkering against the cold in her sweatshirt and jeans; on the other side, Rae was leisurely strolling like she owned the place, encouraging the cat calls with a few of her own, a flirty smile, a flip of her hair. They were polar opposites, Chloe and Rae.

Rae was bronze and gleaming and obvious in everything she did; Chloe was milky and smooth and quietly meticulous in the way she went about things; Rae was lapping up the attention like an arrogant singer; Chloe was shying away from it. Rae was tall and plump, with loud curves and loud everything and Chloe was short and delicate, with lovely curves and lovely everything.

"W-we won't b-be too long," Chloe said through chattering teeth, pulling her hood closer around her face. Derek nodded shortly as the tiny blonde started across the street, focus more on getting inside than on the loud catcalls their companion was getting. Abruptly, two beams of light cut through the gloom and an engine revved loudly as a sleek, glossy sports car exploded out of the lot, streaking towards Chloe.

No time to think, to consider his options. No time to blink. No time to even be worried about his own safety. No time time time time time time—nononotimetimetime.

He lunged forward, slamming into her back. The side of the tire brushed his heels and scraped against the bottoms of his work boots as the car roared passed them, fast as lightening. He could hear the wheels squealing against the pavement, loud and obnoxious as the driver raced on, like they _hadn't _just nearly hit Chloe.

The two of them just lay there for a long time, his heart pounding harshly against his chest, thump thump thumping and beating frantic and he was shaking, more than he liked to admit, his heart in his throat. He couldn't get enough hair, panting, his lungs expanding expanding and drinking in cool oxygen, filling him up like a balloon. He pushed himself up, arms shaking, trembling and trying to catch his breath and staring down into a snow-pale face and pale blonde eyebrows and eyelashes and soft freckles and wisps of baby-fine hair clinging to her wide forehead.

"Are you okay?" he rasped softly, lips sticking together as cold air punctuated him. Her lips trembled as she answered, eyes flying open and then he was drowning in her big, blue ocean blue sky blue sapphire blue eyes. It was like being slapped in the face with a fresh cup of water.

"Y-yeah," she lied through clenched teeth and he helped her to her feet and Rae was fuming, stomping her feet because the attention was stolen from her and she shoved passed them and Chloe tripped on the curb and Derek caught her.

He kept reminding himself that _no she's not really nice to feel against me_ and _god her skin is so soft and silky_ and _she smells like sugar_. Windows doubled his image and he saw a man with long hair and scuffed work boots, wearing the darkness in his gait like a cloak of invisibility. It was as Chloe darted into Papaya that he caught sight of himself.

He looked tall and dark and very bad, with the scars of acne gleaming on his cheeks and his scraped up knuckles.

But mostly, he looked like a strange with an outsider's eyes. Sad, careful, angry eyes.


End file.
